An Affair in Winter (Seasons Book 1) (5 page)

She opened to him—how could she not? After all, he was worshipping her with his mouth and it had been such a long time since anyone kissed her. He made a low, hungry sound in his throat as his tongue breached her, dueling with hers in long, languid strokes.

Her body jolted to life as she clung to him. She was hot and yet shivered at the same time as pleasure poured from their clinging mouths, cascading down her body, making every nerve hum and tingle. She felt the pulse of growing need in her hardening nipples and between her legs, and she let out a broken sigh against his lips as she gave in to all that heady desire he so easily inspired.

He pulled away, his dark stare exploring her face. “Is that a yes?”

There were dozens of reasons to refuse this man. Dozens of reasons to turn away and be the lady she’d been raised to be. But she couldn’t remember them anymore, or at least she chose not to.

“Yes,” she murmured, her voice breaking as she said it. “Please.”

He smiled slightly and cupped her chin, tilting it before he kissed her again. She melted into the caress, giving herself over entirely, shutting off her uncertain mind and letting her heated, wanting body lead.

Letting
him
lead. And he did. He guided her farther into the room, back toward the bed. But when they reached it, he stopped and drew away, squeezing her hand before he walked to the fire.

“Wh-what are you doing?” she asked, barely able to form coherent words.

He tossed two logs onto the low flames and the fire sprang to life, immediately bringing more light and heat to the chamber.

“I want to see you,” he explained as he turned back. “I want you to see me.”

She swallowed hard. Although she had experience with such things, thanks to her previous marriage, Martin hadn’t put much stock in what he saw. He’d started out trying to give her pleasure, but as their relationship deteriorated, he’d gone to just flipping her nightgown up, grunting over her a few times and then returning to his chamber without even a gentle word for her.

Now this man stalked back toward her and she knew by instinct that what was about to happen wasn’t going to be that. And she reveled in it.

“May I remove your dress?” he asked.

She started at his politeness. “I assumed you were the kind of man who would just tear it off me. Or flip it up without preamble.”

“In another circumstance, I might just tear it off you,” he said. “But you must wear it again tomorrow and I wouldn’t want to cause you embarrassment. As for simply flipping it up and having you…” He made a tsking sound. “That would be a waste of a perfectly good stolen evening, wouldn’t it?”

She turned so the buttons that ran down her spine faced him. “Please remove it.”

She held her breath as his big hands caressed her shoulders first. But that same breath gasped out when he leaned in and touched his lips to the side of her throat.

“This isn’t going to be quick, Mrs. Wilde,” he assured her between kisses that tasted her skin. “It isn’t going to be perfunctory.”

She shuddered and leaned back against his chest. “What will it be then?”

He lifted his fingers to the top button of her gown and unfastened it, letting his fingers slide into the gap he’d created.

“A night to remember,” he vowed. “For both of us.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. The idea of a night to remember, a night just for her, a wicked thing she could recall at her darkest and loneliest hours…

Oh, she would take that.

He parted three more buttons, and now there was a significant opening in her dress. She blushed as she realized just how worn out her chemise beneath was. Her grandfather refused to allow her to buy new things anymore. Her punishment for her “bad decisions”, along with a great many other punishments.

But Mr. Gray said nothing about it, just leaned down to sweep the tip of his tongue on the flesh just above the torn lace of the undergarment.

“You taste as sweet as you smell,” he whispered. “I wonder if that is true everywhere?”

She wasn’t quite certain what he meant, but the low, seductive tone of his voice was undeniable. When he unhooked her last button, she let out a long sigh and he chuckled.

“You sound as though you’ve been waiting for that for a long time.”

She stared straight ahead, pondering her response. If he was correct that this was a stolen night out of time, that it was an alignment of wicked stars which had forced them to this moment, wasn’t it her duty to be honest?

“I have been waiting for that since the moment you approached me in the hall downstairs,” she admitted, feeling blood heat her cheeks. “Since the first moment my body betrayed me by making me ache for you, by letting me know how much I wanted you.”

He said nothing, but placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her to face him. He searched her gaze for what felt like an eternity, and then said, “I wanted you from the first moment you stepped into the inn. Desire is something I have tried to stifle for a long time. But now we’ll both have what we need at last.”

She nodded, though she wondered what he meant by his statement that he had stifled his needs for a long time. The question left her mind when he tugged on her dress and it fell forward around her waist.

Heat flooded her cheeks as he shimmied the fabric away until it pooled at her feet. Then he stared. Just
stared
at her.

“You are truly lovely,” he murmured, almost more to himself than to her.

He reached up and threaded his fingers into her hair, plucking away the pins Gertrude had so meticulously placed there hours before. Her locks fell around her shoulders, covering her partially, and he smiled as he glided them back to look at her again.

“Much better,” he drawled.

“And what about you?” Rosalinde asked, her hands shaking as she lifted them. “Wouldn’t you like to be more comfortable as well?”

He chuckled, but didn’t argue as she slid her hands beneath his jacket. She hissed out pleasure at the body heat she found trapped there and the muscles that were present beneath his shirt. If she was going to be wicked and take a lover, she had certainly been gifted with a remarkable specimen of a man. Whatever fairy godmother had placed her on this path, Rosalinde intended to write her a long note of gratitude the moment she had time.

With a shiver, she shoved his jacket away, letting it fall to the floor in a pile with her discarded dress. She met his eyes as she began to unbutton his shirt and his gaze lit with unadulterated desire. He wanted her. Truly. It was a thrilling prospect to inspire such a feeling in a man such as this.

And she intended to savor every moment.

She parted his shirt and took in a harsh breath. “Oh my God,” she murmured as she dragged her fingers across his chest.

Martin had been soft, a gentleman who never went outside unless required by some kind of royal edict. This man, though,
this
man was made of stone. Beautifully carved stone that only masqueraded as warm, living flesh.

It made her wonder, briefly, just who he was outside of these walls. Was her Mr. Gray a highly educated laborer? A handsome farmer? A man so far removed from her sphere that her grandfather would ban her from his house for life if he found out she’d stooped so low? Again.

She pushed the unpleasant thoughts from her head and focused instead on the man in front of her. She stroked his chest, shivering as his muscles rippled beneath her fingers.

Slowly, he lifted his hands and removed his shirt on his own. She glanced up to find his gaze focused on her face. She blushed.

“I-I’m sorry. I was…you are…I’ve never—”

He kissed her to cut her off and she sank against him, her body going soft as her chemise-clad breasts flattened against the warm, hard expanse of his chest and his strong arms encircled her.

His tongue massaged hers and she whimpered as electric desire coursed through her, pulsing and teasing and demanding she find release in some way, any way,
every
way she could. One of his big hands found its way into the small of her back and drew her closer, while the other dragged the strap of her chemise halfway down her arm.

His lips broke from hers, dragging down the column of her neck and down her bare shoulder, tracing the path his finger had just taken. She fisted her hands against his chest and arched into his body, swept away now by need, propriety torn to shreds at last.

He tugged the chemise lower and her breasts came free. He made a low sound once again, possessive and hot, and his mouth dragged over her collarbone, down the swell until he latched onto her already hard nipple.

She cried out. She couldn’t have stopped herself from doing so, even if she were in complete control of her facilities, which she was not. The gentle scrape of his teeth over the sensitive nipple, the rough laving of his tongue, the way he sucked her and then swirled his mouth over her…her vision blurred and pleasure pooled between her legs with frightening speed. There was nothing left to do now but hold on, and she did, clinging to him as he pulled the rest of her chemise away and left her naked to his touch.

He pressed her across the room as he continued to suckle first one nipple, then the other, torturing her until she was trembling. She felt the bed at her backside, felt him lift her to sit on the edge as he continued his erotic assault, but she could do nothing, say nothing. She was too lost now.

He nudged her legs open with his hips and stepped inside the space there. She gasped as she felt the hard ridge of his erection, still hidden beneath his trousers, pressed against her sex. She lifted against it with a moan, seeking out the friction that action created.

“God, woman,” he gasped, breaking his mouth from her flesh at last.

Her eyes went wide at his reaction. She hadn’t thought her movement would bring anyone pleasure but herself. Seeing his glazed expression now, she ground against him again and he dipped his head back with another long moan.

“All right, enough of that,” he grunted, pushing her fully onto the bed and taking a place beside her. “I have more to do before
that
.”

She shook her head, not understanding what he meant, but before she could ask, he dropped his head down to her belly, dragging his tongue across her flesh. Then lower to her hip. Lower to her thigh. And suddenly he was sprawled at her sex.

She stiffened as he parted her clenched thighs and her most private of areas was now on display for him. She stared at him as he looked at her, a smile on his face that made even more liquid rush to her sex.

He slid his hand beneath her backside, dragging her closer and tilting her hips toward him. Then, to her shock and utter pleasure, he kissed her quim. And it was no chaste peck, either. He slid his tongue across her exquisitely sensitive flesh, swiping away the evidence of her arousal as he swirled his tongue around and around.

Her cry echoed in the room around them as she fisted the bedclothes. This was amazing. Incredible. And he wasn’t finished. He licked her up and down, tasting and teasing, flicking his tongue over the nub of her clitoris and then diving into her sex to slide in and out in the rhythm with which he would eventually take her.

She began to lift her hips to meet him, mewling out pleasure as he relentlessly feasted on her body. Eventually, he moved his focus to just one part of her quivering flesh. He flicked her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, then alternated with gentle sucks of that tingling nub. She gasped, arching and thrusting as her pleasure grew, crested, and finally it exploded. She thrashed her head on the pillow as wave after wave of release rolled over her. He drew her through them all until at last she shivered one last time and lay still.

“Very sweet,” he growled as he moved up the length of her body with his tongue and finally kissed her.

She tasted herself on his lips and glided her fingers into his hair to angle his head differently. They warred that way for a while before he finally drew away and stepped back.

“Oh no, don’t go,” she whispered, heedless of the desperation in her tone.

“I would not go if the inn caught on fire,” he assured her as he unfastened his trousers and stripped the last barrier between them away.

She sat up partially, staring at his hard, ready cock. He was thicker than Martin had been, longer too. She was going to have that inside of her and she couldn’t wait. It had been too long, far too long, since she’d had that pleasure.

He crawled back over her and settled between her legs, but he didn’t claim her. He kissed her again, slow and languid, and she sank into it, letting go of any remaining fears and questions about right or wrong or proper.

And just when she was almost boneless with surrender, he caught her hips and rolled, dragged her on top of him.

She straddled his hips immediately, her tingling body driving her for more, for everything. Now she was too far gone to deny herself, or to deny him, the ultimate end to this wicked night. He gripped her hips, helping her position herself, and she reached between them to grasp his cock.

He sucked in a breath through his teeth and she smiled as she stroked him once, twice, then slid him to her entrance. They both stopped breathing, their eyes locked, as she finally glided down over him. Inch by inch, she took him, reveling in the stretch of his body inside of hers. Oh yes, he was bigger than Martin, certainly bigger than her own fingers, which had been the last thing to breach her. When he was finally fully seated, she felt full and womanly and her body screamed at her to move.

She did not deny herself. Placing hands on his shoulders for balance, she began to grind down on him in small circles. He squeezed his eyes shut, meeting her movements, their short breaths matching as she worked them both toward yet another release. This one would be more powerful, she could already tell from the rapidly growing tension and pleasure in her loins.

He caught his breath. “Jesus,” he grunted, and surprised her by sitting up. His arms came around her, his mouth sought hers, and as she continued to thrust over him, he lifted to meet her.

It was too much, and at last she lost control, whimpering into his mouth as pleasure mobbed her once more. It was only when her body went limp in his arms that he shifted her, flipping her on her back, her head at the end of the bed, her legs locked around his waist. Then he began to take her harder.